Surviving the Applewhites: The Sequel
by LottaHandell90
Summary: E. D. thought that life would return to normal  by Applewhite standards  after Jake Semple returned to RI. She was wrong… When a troubled wealthy boy stumbles into Traybridge, E. D. and her eccentric family must help him find more to life than luxuries.
1. Chapter 1

_The Applewhites and all accompanying them belong to Stephanie Tolan. Dalton, and other unrecognizable characters and plot belong to me._

* * *

Chapter One

E. D. stared at the descending sun, reflecting upon her day as usual. Dinner would be served soon, and after that, there would be another family meeting.

Family meeting! It angered her just to think about it.

Many changes had occurred in the Applewhite clan in the last couple years. Her sister Cordelia, despite the somewhat questionable (only to herself) quality of the Creative Academy had managed to get in the North Carolina School of the Arts, in the School of Dance. Hal- is still a recluse, but has been coming out for meals more. Little Destiny is now old enough to be an official student of the Creative Academy, so E. D. has had her hands full of organizing her own curriculum AND that of Destiny's. The adults were still at work with their own projects, but Zebediah was still making sure that the Academy was still up to the state standards. E. D. appreciated her grandfather's practicality; he was the closest to understanding her, even though she still felt out of place.

Then there was the year-and-a-half process that her Uncle Archie and Aunt Lucille went through to adopt Christiana who is two years older than Destiny. Jake Semple, the "bad-turned-reformed boy from the city" had left Traybridge, North Carolina last summer, back to his hometown in Rhode Island when his parents left prison on parole. The two had just formed more of a friendship, as Jake came more into terms with himself and the people around him, after the successful "Sound of Music" production two years ago. The two still exchange emails and letters often, and Jake seemed to be doing better in the new alternative school that had just opened in Rhode Island.

She sighed.

Now there would be ANOTHER Jake Semple coming.

Only he wouldn't be anything like Jake...

Dalton Lucas Remington Mortinson. A rich boy from Massachusetts! A descent of a Massachusetts "aristocracy," no less! Just what she needed! Another problem. Another so-called "classmate."

Thanks to Lucille…

A visit to a Massachusetts prep school for a poetry workshop had turned into a part deux of Lucille's need to help the struggling youth of today. At the workshop, she met and got to know one of the parents- Clarissa or Marissa or whatever- Mortinson, who was struggling to cope with her husband's imprisonment (deja vu, much?) for fraud or something or other- and her son's subsequenct "descent into despair" as Lucille put it. Next thing, she know, Lucille took up the offer of taking in the boy and educating him, at least until the family put itself back on its feet.

Life was complicated enough. E. D. was already responsible for her own education, as well as Destiny's and Christiana's. She was NOT about to cram in more of the little time she had to accommodate some rich kid who has never been through the difficulties of the average American, and who has never been through the problems she has to go through day-by-day with her chaotic family.

E. D., to no avail, had implored Zebediah to talk some sense into Lucille and send the rich kid to "some relative or something" in HER own words.

But no.

Lucille insisted that the kid didn't have relatives willing to take him in. The father had no family left; he was an only child and his parents already deceased and the mom (what was her name again?) is distant from her family. E. D. had stormed off not listening to the further reasoning why the rich kid should come stay with them.

Now she was outside sitting by the meadow, wondering how she was going to get through this summer.

"E. D.!" her aunt cried from the direction of the main house. "Dinner is ready!"

"Coming!"

It was going to be a LONG year. No doubt about it.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The tall, dirty blonde boy of fifteen climbed out of the bus, glaring at the North Carolina countryside. He hated the South and its horrid, humid climate. And the people? Ugh! He always believed Southerners were uncouth, tasteless, and uneducated, and the accents were particularly atrocious. The train ride from Boston to Raleigh had been horrible. One Southerner had the nerve to even ask him, "How're ya'll durin?" Dalton had to keep himself from vomiting. Now he has to stay with a bunch of them. The Applewhites.

Dalton Lucas Remington Mortinson, heir to the Mortinson fortune, clutched two suitcases as he waited for his ride to pick him up.

He thought back to when his mother told him about the Applewhites and how it would benefit him to stay with them. Truth was, he believed she was crazy to even suggest such a thing. Dalton _knew _his mother was crazy. Distant from her remaining family and trapped in a miserable marriage to the wealthy Lucas Mortinson, Marissa Mortinson nee Remington resorted into alcohol and popping pills to cope. Unfortunately it escalated especially now that Lucas is now in jail.

He sat down at the bus stop, obviously exhausted from the excruciating heat.

"_You will have a marvelous time, Dalton darling. The family may seem unorthodox, but I hear they are able to help the unfortunate-"_

_ "No! I am no "unfortunate," Mother! If you would just open your eyes and get yourself back to reality, you would see that _this _does not make any sense whatsoever!"_

_ "Dalton, please do not shout. It breaks my heart to see my baby boy suffer so-"_

_ "Because of HIM, Mother, and because you won't get out of your fantasy fairy tale world!"_

_ There was silence among them. They could still hear the servants toiling away outside, and the dogs barking._

_ "I worry about you, love. I just believe that spending time in a happier environment-"_

_ "_You _need to spend time in a happier environment- in rehab, Mother! I'm sick of you pinning all your bloody problems on me all the time!"_

_ Another silence._

_ "Just go, Dalton. Just go- and come back for Christmas. Things will get better."_

_ "Yeah, I'll go. But it's a bunch of bull. Things will _never _get better."_

Dalton could still remember the quiet tears sliding down her face, as he left for the train station this morning…

He heaved out a heavy sigh. It was now four in the afternoon, the day still a long time from being over. When was this ride going to be here? Who would pick him up? Hopefully not that crazy poet woman at school that had the bloody idea in the first place.

An 1996 Honda Civic stopped right near him.

An elderly man with white, droopy facial hair, wearing flannal (Ugh) got out toward him.

"Dalton Mortinson?" he uttered.

"Yes, sir," Dalton replied in a mutter.

"Zebediah Applewhite, patriarch of the Applewhite clan. Welcome to North Carolina, Dalton."

He grabbed Dalton's hand and shook it firmly.

Wonderful. The old man is the welcome wagon. Well, at least it isn't the meddling poet woman.

"Put your luggage in the trunk there, Dalton. We have only a ten minute trip back to Wit's End. You must be tired from your long trip over here."

Dalton mumbled a reply in the affirmative, as he got in the passenger seat in the Civic.

They did not speak much on the way to Wit's End of what Zebediah termed "Wit's End- Furniture Factury, Gallery, Studio, Playhouse, Goat Compound and Creative Academy", near the small town of Traybridge. Dalton felt sick at the thought of transfering from the top private prep school in the country to an artsy, trivial homeschool called the "Creative Academy." He instantly knew that Harvard would never accept a student who attended a school called the "Creative Academy." His father would be so ashamed, even from his jail cell.

"You will be staying in Cordelia's old room at the main house. Your "classmates" so to speak will be Hal, E. D., Destiny and Christiana. E. D. is closest to your "grade level" so you and she will be working together throughout the semester."

Dalton nodded in agreement. Inwardly, he wished the old man would just shut up. Right now, he could care less about who his "classmates" are.

"Are you from here?" he managed to ask, in a croaking voice.

"What was that, Dalton?"

"Are you from here?"

"Oh, no, no. I am not a North Carolinian. We're all from New York."

"All of you?"

"All of us, except for Christiana and Destiny. They were both born in North Carolina."

Dalton shrugged. He'd only have to deal with two Southerners and they're both young children.

The old man finally drove in toward the Wit's End area, Dalton felt more relieved as the car stopped in the parkway.

"Here we are. Wit's End."

Dalton got out of the car and observed his surroundings. It used to be a farm, he could tell. The old barn had been turned into a playhouse, where it runs for the spring and autumn seasons. There was also the main two story house with the homeschool classroom (formally a moter lodge office) attached, and a few scruffy little cabins surrounding the area. It resembled one of those cheesy summer camps that he'd seen on television. Only without the lake.

A woman with frizzy hair, color almost resembling his own, ran up toward them.

Oh no. Lucille Applewhite, the meddling poet woman.

"Hi! You must be Dalton! Welcome to Wit's End!"

Agony filled his mind. She seemed cheerful, too cheerful for his taste. His own mother was never cheerful. She was always depressed about something to be cheerful about anything.

"Thank you," he only muttered.

"E. D. will show you to your room."

She motioned toward the direction of the main house, where a young girl of about the same age as himself was sitting on the porch reading. She seemed pretty enough, and her light brown hair was significently longer than it was two years ago. She was perhaps a tomboy; she wore a T-shirt and matching shorts. She wasn't like any of the girls at school that Dalton had gone out with.

She sighed heavily and only said, "Come on."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

"I hope this room is suitable to your needs."

E. D. wanted to be anywhere but here at the moment. She would rather be eating glass then spending any time around Dalton Mortinson. The fact that she was now showing some strange rich kid to Cordelia's medium-small room made her feel even more annoyed than usual.

She then moved out of the way, to let Dalton survey the room.

Many of Cordelia's belongings, most relating to perfermance dance had been moved to her flat nearby NC School of the Arts, or in Dogwood Cottage, where she stays during her breaks off. The room, which was painted entirely in daffodil yellow was mostly empty, save for a desk, bed, an empty chest and closets.

"Just let me know if you need anything," E. D. then said to Dalton, who was now starting to unpack his belongings.

He only replied with a curt nod, and she returned outside to think some more about her situation. The strange thing was that the first impression both of them had on each other resembled her first impression of Jake Semple: bad, negative, vexing, etc, etc. Granted, Dalton didn't burn down an entire school (allegedly) or had a long history of being kicked out of every school he attended. But, to E. D., Dalton was a liability in her life. A new cause of worry and annoyance.

But Jake Semple turned out not to be so bad in the end. Lucille was right; Jake had some goodness in him deep down. He and Destiny formed a brotherly relationship, Winston (the family dog) was attached to Jake and Jake was most devastated when Winston passed on last year. Jake also found an new talent he never knew he had, when he participated in her father's _Sound of Music _production two years ago. Even E. D. herself, ended up getting along with the "bad boy from the city," who was only insecure due to his working class background and only wanted to "be known." Now he was known for the right reasons.

But she knew that Dalton would _never _turn over any new leaf. For one thing, the kid was spoiled and rich, so he never went through the struggles that Jake went through in his childhood. Yes, both of Dalton's parents could be insane and negligant, but still…

E. D. continued her reading, of a historical novel set in the Revolutionary War period. An avid history enthusiast, she enjoyed reading historical novels for pleasure, not particularly for the Creative Academy. Reading for pleasure was basically her only deviance from her tightly-planned to the day schedule.

This morning had been particularly bad for her, with everyone getting themselves ready for Dalton's arrival. Lucille was especially excited at the prospect. Early this morning, Randolph left for Raleigh to work on their theater's fall production of _Grease. _Yes, Randolph is doing _Grease_ Two years have passed and he was going from _the Sound of Music _to the cheesy _Grease. _What next? _Hairspray? Annie?_

Of course, there is also the prospect of having another lousy classmate to share her semester projects with. The butterfly project (the first project she and Jake completed together) had been shaky at best, with the two constantly at odds. The last project she worked with Jake on was a family history project, in which both her and Jake got to learn from each other (basically what Zedediah and Lucille were aiming for when agreeing to take Jake in), about their respective families in life and she got to understand Jake and his situation more, like the fact that he and his parents grew up in drug and alcohol infested families.

On the schedule for this semester will be the importance of ecology and preserving the environment (science), World War II (history), and _A Catcher in the Rye _(English). Also, as Zedediah had told her, she and Dalton will be signed up with the same online geometry tutor, causing her to lose her confidence and liking for her favorite subject (least favorite to the rest of her chaotic family).

She heaved out a huge sigh, wondering what Jake was up to now.

Her grandfather then appeared in view.

"How're you holding up?"

She only muttered. "Fine, I guess."

Zedediah then got on the rocking chair right near her. "You don't seem "fine" to me."

E. D. heaved a sigh. "Do you seriously believe that Dalton Mortinson can _learn _anything here? Do you seriously believe that he will be able to understand the purpose of the Creative Academy?"

"_Anyone _can learn _anything. _It doesn't matter what has happened in their lives. Remember Jake?"

"Yes, I remember. But he was different! He's not some kid who's been rich his entire life and practically gotten everything he wanted whenever he wanted. Dalton Mortinson is that kid!"

"You must remember that it doesn't matter what you have done in the past. What matters is the present. Right now, Dalton needs our help. Yes, it is true that he has been wealthy and was able to get anything he wanted in his life. However, he has to learn that there is more to life than material possessions."

"Well, duh."

"We can provide help for him, E. D. The love of family and friends is much more important than money, luxury and prestige."

Try telling that to the Mortinsons.

"I suppose you're right. I'm- just going to get ready for dinner."

She then went back inside the house. Various amounts of noise filtered through. The banging up in Hal's room was still going on, as it had been the entire day. Destiny and Christiana were in the living room singing and scribbling drawings. Her mother was up in her office writing away. Her father was still working away in Raleigh for the fall production season. Everyone all intensely busy with their own projects to care about the fact that a strange kid from wealthy New England was now infiltrating their household. Nobody truly remembering to get started with dinner or anything relevent.

Just the same old, same old. Just as two years ago with Jake, E. D. was now in charge with looking after Dalton and his education. And at almost fifteen, she was in no mood to take this duty.

Too bad.

E. D. helped Lucille with dinner that evening. Randolph was _still _in Raleigh, and Sybil was sitting writing away, having her dinner in her office.

Destiny and Christiana ran in the kitchen, while E. D. was finishing up with their dinner, which was to be an Italian-influenced pasta.

"E. D.! Where's the new kid?" Destiny cried. "I wanna meet him! Is he cool like Jake? Does he have points in his hair? Is he allowed to use matches? Is he-"

"That's enough!" E. D. held up a hand to placate her little brother. "Listen, you two, his name is Dalton. For now, leave him be. He's had a long trip over here, and he doesn't need two little kids pestering him all night."

"Okay," the two then said glumly, as they headed to the dining room.

E. D. sighed. She hated to be the bossy elder sister to the little ones, but who else will take on the responsiblity. Cordelia is away at college and Hal is a semi-recluse, and their parents were all preoccupied with their own projects. Sometimes she felt more like a thirty-year-old than a fourteen-year-old. And she hated it.

She helped serve dinner, and then sat down (unfortunately) next to Dalton, who was absent-mindly picking at his food.

"What?" he scowled at her.

She scowled back. "Nothing."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

"Bon appetite!" Lucille chirped, cheerfully, as she served Dalton a steaming plate of pasta in front of him.

He glared angrily at this crazy poet woman who dared to even _think _this whole situation was a good thing.

He grunted a thanks and began picking at his food. He also observed the other people surrounding him. The old man, Zedediah sat at the head of the table, with Lucille and a man with crew cut hair that had to be her husband Archie sitting to his left and right. The two younger kids, a tow-headed six-year-old boy introduced to him as Destiny and a raven-haired eight-year-old girl (Christiana, the adopted Applewhite), sat across from him and that girl, A. D. or whatever her name was. He had snorted at the prospect of a tomboyish girl of about his own age adopting initials as fitting a CEO, as her name.

As for the parents, Randolph Applewhite and Sybil Jameson he reckoned, they were not even out here for dinner. Neither was the elder brother Hal, who was banging away upstairs in his room. Dalton glanced at E. D., who was still in a dark mood. Well, the two had one thing in common, he thought. They both don't have meals with their parents at the same time, albeit for different reasons and situations.

"So, Dalton, why don't you tell us a few things about yourself?" Lucille then said.

"What?" he glared at her now.

"Like what are your favorite hobbies? Favorite subjects?"

"Hobbies? I have none."

"None?" E. D. suddenly spoke. "What you you mean "none"?"

"Exactly what I said. None," Dalton rolled his eyes at her.

"What? You don't like to read or watch movies or even hang out with your friends? You do have friends, do you?"

"Yes, I have friends," Dalton retorts. "I'd rather be with them than to be here right now."

Lucille heard the last sentence spoken. "I know, Dalton. It's hard to be away from your friends. But Christmas will be here before you know it and you can visit them, and your parents too!"

"I could care less about my parents," he grumbled, under his breath. "They never cared for me."

"Well, Dalton." It was Archie's turn to speak. "You will have plenty of opportunities here, not just to improve your educational horizons but also to meet new people-"

"New friends?" Dalton grumbled.

"Archie is right, young man," Zedediah said. "You're not just getting the education you would usually get in the classroom. You are going to learn that education is a quest- a quest for the meaning of life."

"Basically, you're learning that you can learn anything, anywhere," sighed E. D.

"May I please be excused?"

A nod from the adults and she was gone, without as much of a bite of food.

The two little kids were whispering amongst yourselves.

"Destiny wants to know if you could stick your hair up in pointies," the little girl inquired him.

What in the hell-

"What?"

"Pointies!" Christiana then cried.

"I bloody heard you."

"He said a Paulie word," the girl then said to her cousin.

"What? "Bloody?" It's a word."

"You used it in the same way that Paulie uses it, and we're not allowed to use those words."

"Who _is _Paulie? Another relative?"

"He's Grandpa's parrot. He uses words that only he can use."

"Don't forget Jake!" pointed out the little boy. "He's a big kid, so he's allowed to say parrot words."

"Oh! So Dalton's a big kid too, so he can use parrot words."

"That's right, Chrissie!"

Dalton groaned. This whole stupid dinner is preposterous and time-wasting. At his house, meals with his parents were taken as seriously as business meetings, on the days his parents _actually _gave a crap to even attend. Usually, he would eat alone or with his nanny (when younger) or with friends. The close-knit, weird Applewhites were culture-shocks in excess.

* * *

A rooster crowing. Birds chirping. Wood chopping in the distance. Hal's banging in the nearby room. Dalton couldn't bear to sleep any longer, so he forced himself up. The clock at the bedside table read 6:00 in big red digits.

Great, just bloody great! So, he'll wake up like this, groggy and miserable at six o' clock in the morning, and with a bunch of noise going on outside _and _within the house. He either could stay in bed and try to sleep for a few more hours or get out of the house to avoid the noise from within and only had to deal with the natural sounds and the chopping going on in the background.

He voted for the latter. He had to get out of the house. Now.

After showering and dressing, he then crept carefully out of the house. Although Hal was making a lot of noise, Dalton was in no mood to worsen the situation with those that were still sleeping.

Aside from the birds chirping and roosters crowing in the distance, the meadow seemed more quiet than the entire Wit's End main area. He decided to sit under a tree and just think, think of a way to get out of this hell-hole.

His mother had called him late last night to check up on him. After a series of monotonous two word sentences on the part of Dalton, his mother said in her usual fake friendly voice that she'd talk to him later that week and that she'd say hello to his father for him. Dalton had angrily hung up on her, right after.

He heard two voices in the distance.

"Perhaps he's in the meadow. It's such a beautful day!"

Oh no! That damned poet woman!

"Well, he better not be at the goat pen. I wouldn't be surprised if he gets hurt, since Destiny and Christiana decided to mess about with the "goatsies" the other day."

And she's talking with that insufferable E. D. girl.

Dalton groaned, as he got up and walked toward the voices.

"Oh, there you are Dalton!" Lucille sees him and rushed toward him. E. D. walked slowly after her. "Allow us to give you the grand tour!"

The grand tour? Was this woman crazier than he would ever think she would be?

E. D. sighed heavily. "I'd better go find the little ones-"

"E. D. stay with us! I believe Destiny and Christiana are already down in the schoolroom."

"Okay, okay."

"You ready, Dalton?" Lucille then asked him, cheerfully.

He grunted in response.

"All rightie then! Let's begin our tour, shall we?"

Giving in, Dalton then followed Lucille and E. D. around the summer camp like Wit's End. Lucille, ever the cheerful tour guide explained the purpose of each little cabin and then directed the two teenagers to the shop, where Archie and Zedediah worked on their crafts.

"Ah, Lucille!" Zedediah emerged from the woodshop. "I see that you're showing Dalton around, eh?"

"Yes, we are."

"Are you about to show him the schoolroom? It is best that we get him settled before the school year starts."

"Oh, yes. That has not left my mind. In fact, it is our best interest that E. D. gets him situated in time for August."

With that, both E. D. and Dalton groaned.

Both adults paid no heed to them however.

"I'd better get back to work here," Zedediah said. "Good luck with the tour now."

"Thanks, Zedediah."

Lucille now directed toward the two kids. "Now, let's go on to the schoolroom, eh?"

She then directed the two back toward the schoolroom, which was the old motor lodge attached to the main house. Destiny and Christiana were sitting in two of the four desks situated, coloring. Destiny was singing _Pop Goes the Weasel. _

The Applewhite schoolroom was unlike any classroom Dalton had ever seen before. There was no teacher's desk, although there was a medium sized whiteboard on the north side of the room, with the Applewhite school motto hanging above. There were also numerous bulletin boards placed around the room, some with photos of past years with E. D., Destiny, Christiana, Jake Semple (explained as a former temporary student like Dalton himself), and even semi-recluse Hal.

"Well, Dalton," Lucille finally was addressing him now, after a long and winded explanation of the so-called "academy" by E. D. "You'll be taking over Cordelia's former desk here-"

Dalton wanted to be anywhere but here at the moment. The poet woman was now babbling on about how glad she was to have him join them this year and so on. The thought of him or anyone else being happy here in North Carolina made him sick to be frank.

"STOP THAT INFERNAL NOISE! DON'T YOU PEOPLE GET IT? IT'S THE BLOODY CRACKING OF THE DAWN!"

"Sounds like Randolph's up," sighed Lucille.

She then turned to the kids. "He got in late last night, so it's imperative that you all don't worsen his mood."

"Lucille, don't worry," E. D. said. "I'm used to Dad's _moods."_

Dalton, in turn, nodded quietly. Being Lucas Mortinson's son prepared him for such situations. He had always had a difficult relationship with his father, excerberated with him always being at the office and hardly around. He wondered if the Applewhite kids had the same feelings toward their dad as himself.

Finally, Lucille left the room, leaving Dalton and the Applewhite children alone. E. D. turned toward Dalton, who had barely said a word all morning and was still in thought.

"What's with you?" she then demanded of him.

Dalton responds with a glare. "None of your business."

He then took off for his room.


End file.
